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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25285504">Tip Me On How To Forget About This One (It Won't Leave My Mind)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsHighlightlover/pseuds/ItsHighlightlover'>ItsHighlightlover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Motorcycling RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bring The Pink Hair Back, Coffee Shops, Crushes, Flirting, M/M, Pining, The Mavio Coffee Shop AU Nobody Asked For</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:55:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,235</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25285504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsHighlightlover/pseuds/ItsHighlightlover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He had whined to an unimpressed Tom about how it all reminded him of those summer hits that become popular ridiculously quickly, with mainstream instrumental bases and shallow lyrics that somehow still manage to get under everyone' skin right away. Fabio wouldn't, by any chance, label his musical taste as select and refined. But he did always resist a little bit before admitting defeat (a.k.a adding the damn song to his Spotify list and play it on a loop like everyone else)</p><p>Well, Maverick Viñales is like a summer hit Fabio couldn't get out of his head. </p><p>And here he was every afternoon, simultaneously dreading and looking forward to the moment he would make it through the door.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fabio Quartararo/Maverick Viñales</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tip Me On How To Forget About This One (It Won't Leave My Mind)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Fabio really hates himself sometimes.</p><p>It wasn't supposed to happen.</p><p>He doesn't even know how it came down to this.</p><p>But it needs to stop.</p><p>He takes a surely overdramatic deep breath as his fingers tie the knot of his apron, eyeing the clock on the wall to make sure that he isn't late. <em>Good</em>. He still has two minutes until his shift officially begins, enough to check his messages one last time, make the mental note to return his mom's missing call later and react to the last meme Tom has sent with a bunch of laughing emojis. He shakes his head, not being able to contain the fond smile his flatmate always manages to rip off him with the tiniest foolishness. He has always know how to do that, since they were two impish kids running carelessly down the streets of Nice, and Fabio is glad that hasn't changed now that they were both that far from home.</p><p>"Fab, can you start emptying the filters of the espresso machine, please?" Alex's request drags his attention off the screen of his phone, his coworker's curls-covered head popping up from the storage room the exact moment the clock hits half past three.</p><p>Fabio nods swiftly, taking it as the cue to slide his phone down the rear pocket of his bleached jeans and get on with it. He smiles back when the spaniard walks past him with a box full of fresh baked pastries, sweet enough to give a horse a sugar overdose. He still can't understand how Miller is able to swallow a minimum of two of those a day with his generously loaded black coffee without suffering a heart attack.</p><p>He is about to chuckle at the thought but quickly blinks, instead, trying to disperse the topic that will, for sure, come up after being reminded of the australian. Not because of Jack himself. <em>Not at all</em>. If anything, that asshole is definitely one of his and Rins' favorite daily customers. No, Fabio's issue related to Miller began the moment he discovered Jack was friends with <em>him</em>.</p><p>Thankfully, the strong smell of crushed coffee beans that suddenly assaults his nostrils takes him back to the task he should be focusing on. The filters.</p><p><em>Right</em>.</p><p>The café always gets a bit more crowded at this time of the day, chosen by most people in Barcelona as the perfect way to conclude their lunch break. Luckily, the frenzy of never-ending queues and confusing orders doesn't last more than forty five minutes, and the atmosphere gradually relaxes again, clearing the way for a moderate flow of students -way easier to handle- during the rest of the afternoon. Most of them are pretty harmless, actually, showing up with dark under eyes and clutching laptops, in search of a shot of caffeine, free WIFI and somewhere decent to sit while they try to get in their heads enough information to get through the finals.</p><p>Fabio himself was one of them just a month ago, and he would probably still be if Aleix hadn't broken his fucking elbow while cycling and the opportunity to make some money at the other side of the counter hadn't showed up. Hence why he had traded the afternoons of study in one of those tables for preparing cappuccinos and waking up at dawn to catch up with the uni work. To say that his sleeping schedule is a bit more fucked up than usual is an understatement. Mr. Jarvis had made quite clear that his contract would last as much as Espargaró's recovery process, but after three exhausting weeks, he is more than okay with being just a temporal substitute. He isn't sure he'll be able to keep it up much longer.</p><p>But summing it up, it wasn't <em>that</em> bad. Fabio was coping, so far, and he would be lying if he says that asking his mom for money with much less frequency than before doesn't make him feel better. No, none of the previously mentioned issues seemed like a problem he couldn't overcome, as reckless as he had been for accepting that trashy schedule without a second thought, being naive (and stupid) enough to think he would end up pulling it off.</p><p>It was all fine. Cool. Chill.</p><p>Until it wasn't.</p><p>The positive crap lasted about four days and his resolution crumbled rather spectacularly when <em>he</em> started showing up on a daily basis. With sleeping five hours and getting high on caffeine to keep himself awake during lectures he can deal with just fine, but crushing on a costumer, however, is a whole new level of messy. Fabio is well aware of that.</p><p>Especially if said costumer is anything like Maverick Viñales, who looks like trouble and takes his daily macchiato without a single pinch of sugar.</p><p>An involuntary snort scapes him when his brain instantly goes over a routine he has (against his will) ended up memorizing. The guy drops by almost every single day, around 5pm, parking by the sidewalk that Yamaha he has seen around campus here and there, that only adds to the bad boy vibe Viñales gives off and that makes of him an even more mesmerizing contradiction. Cause general prejudgement leads to believe that someone who looks like <em>that</em> is most likely to act like a self absorbed jerk, not to order in such an earnest, composed tone. </p><p>And Fabio is truly intrigued, he must admit that. But so is everyone else, hence why he has been stuck in this itchy phase of intense denial. Of course, Fabio had seen Maverick around the campus before taking over Aleix's shift at the café. The guy is <em>popular</em> and he's just stubborn, not blind, neither does he live under a rock, so there is that. But the issue had really taken off due to his initial refusal to gush over Viñales like a sheep following the flock. Fabio has never liked blending in with everyone else, his short, fuchsia-dyed strands of hair and histrionic sense of fashion stated as much, so, again, how he had ended up with this humiliatingly unoriginal crush he does not know.</p><p>He had whined to an unimpressed Tom about how it all reminded him of those summer hits that become popular ridiculously quickly, with mainstream instrumental bases and shallow lyrics that somehow still manage to get under everyone's skin right away. Fabio wouldn't, by any chance, label his musical taste as select and refined. <em>Pfff as if</em>. But he did always resist a little bit before admitting defeat (code for adding the damn song to his Spotify list and play it on a loop like everyone else)</p><p>Well, Maverick Viñales is like a summer hit Fabio couldn't get out of his head.</p><p>And here he was every afternoon, simultaneously dreading and looking forward to the moment he would make it through the door, head towards the counter and order in that smooth voice tone of his that Fabio simply couldn't get over.</p><p>He shakes his head again, focusing on placing the lid correctly over the latte Alex just handed to him.</p><p>"Alright there, Fab?" Rins checks, his infectious, broad grin not wavering for a second.</p><p>"<em>Parfait</em>" he nods, not bothering to translate that one as he smiles right back at him.</p><p>In all honesty, most of the time, Fabio thanks the heavens for his coworker. Rinsy, as Aleix and Jack like to call him, was one of the easiest, most friendly people Fabio has ever known. The flat the Spaniard shares with Joan and Tito is just a few blocks away from his own. They were introduced one of the first times he had come over to do a project with Mir and long story short; that was the only occasion he had been at theirs with academic purposes. From there on Fabio had only set foot on the place to hang out, for late PlayStation nights and to watch Champions League matches. He's almost sure that Alex had something to do with Jarvis' quick approval to let him replace Aleix . So yeah, sharing his shift with someone he gets along with so well, did the whole thing a bit less infernal.</p><p>A sigh scapes his lips before he makes his way to deliver the latte to a short, dark haired girl that waits with both hands buried on the pockets of her denim jacket. He grins politely and trades the hot cup for her credit card, handing it back alongside the ticket with the friendly <em>gracias</em> he only reserves for costumers. He moves onto the chocolate the next guy wants, then to the cappuccino the following lady orders, he restocks the napkins holders and wipes the tables clean, and somehow, he manages to go through each task during the next hour without incidents or undesired distractions.</p><p>He's so focused that he doesn't even notice the dark blue Yamaha parking on the sidewalk, neither the two figures hoping off the seat, the image perfectly visible through the wide glass wall he's unfortunately not facing.</p><p>It's not until the bell chimes that he throws a quick glance towards the just arrived costumers, nearly dropping the damp cloth he is holding when he catches sight of Jack Miller patting Viñales' shoulder while the two of them cross the threshold, probably laughing at something that the australian finds funnier than it actually is.</p><p>And Fabio stops his dramatic self just in time before he starts muttering a string of curses under his breath because <em>what the fuck</em> it's not even five yet. Yet here <em>he</em> is and as it has been happening for two weeks now, Fabio's attention is irremediably dragged to Maverick <em>and Maverick only.</em></p><p><em>Ugh.</em> How anyone can have such a perfect side profile is beyond his comprehension. Viñales' hairstyle is as neat as always, even if he must have just removed the helmet, the longer strands are flawlessly arranged on top of his head, the rest evenly close-cropped. The leather jacket fits his shoulders impeccably, complementing the light grey t-shirt he wears underneath. As usual, the pair of black jeans and combat boots wrap up the attire and Fabio nearly huffs out loud, cause only he can pull off such an outfit first week of June, can't he?</p><p>The helmets hit the marble counter with a familiar clatter right before Alex's cheerful voice breaks through the calm background chatter.</p><p>"Good afternoon" the curly haired guy greets them both with a handshake, dragging the syllables in a poor imitation of Jack's accent that has also become part of their daily routine.</p><p>"Busy day, mate?" The aussie grins, clearly not the slightest bit offended, letting his left elbow rest on the counter as he takes a quick look around. Unluckily, not quick enough for Fabio to go unnoticed. The audible, exaggerated gasp that follows is enough for the frenchman to know it's a lost cause "Fabio! It's pink!"</p><p>Yeah, perhaps the fuchsia colored hair wasn't the best ally to blend in <em>now that he would loved doing just that</em>. He catches the amused looks of some costumers here and there, the couple of girls sitting at table 5 chuckling at Jack's theatrical squeal. Normally it wouldn't be a big deal, he doesn't care about the attention he knows his style tends to attract. No, it's the weight of <em>his</em> gaze what makes Fabio's skin crawl.</p><p>He steps behind the counter with a deep breath. If he must say hi, he would rather deal with his unrequited crush with a bar between them. However, he's not able to conceal a smile upon seeing Miller's expression, despite the havoc unleashed by his recently agitated nerves.</p><p>"Man, look at that" Jack leans over the counter, reaching for the newly dyed strands with a playful glint in his look. Fabio dodges the movement just before the australian can do any serious damage. He hasn't spent twenty minutes in front of the mirror for nothing, mind you. Jack doesn't seem to care, though, sniggering light-heartedly and eyeing the hairstyle as if expecting it to grow some flowers "Always so magical, Fabio"</p><p>"Magical?" He scoffs, trying not to melt at the sound of Maverick's chuckle while his mind comes up with something to mask his restlessness "I don't think we should allow you to get near caffeine today"</p><p>He would have liked to see himself from the perspective of the little girl that is sipping on her chocolate milkshake while her mother splits in two the cake Alex brought to their table five minutes ago, so that he could judge if he's making a good job at pretending he's not freaking out.</p><p>Normally, Viñales comes alone, he asks for his coffee, waits patiently with both hands on the front pockets of his pants, pays and says goodbye with the light hint of a smile. Meanwhile -those days Alex is busy doing something else and Fabio has to attend his order- he tries to get through the process without getting distracted or making a fool of himself. However, the fact that today Maverick is accompanied by Jack it's a first, and it only means that he's not getting off the hook by any means. Honestly, Fabio can't promise that he won't have a tiny, little breakdown if any form of interaction happens.</p><p>"I see they haven't corrupted you yet" Jack goes on, the sly grin never truly leaving his face in spite of the serious tone he's trying to use "Look, you must let go of all your moral principles to become a good barista,<em> chéri</em>"</p><p>Again, Fabio can't suppress a grin, raising both eyebrows at the attempt of pronunciation.</p><p>"Which means filling his black coffee to the brim even if we know he would live longer if we didn't" Alex supplies, his curls bouncing as he shakes his head, also clearly amused. Jack's visits always have the same mood lifting effect, no matter how the day goes, he always manages to pull a smile on their faces with his antics. Fabio is sure that the australian has no idea of how truly appreciated it is.</p><p>"Exactly" Jack agrees, slamming the countertop with the palm of his hand while his narrowed eyes survey avidly the displayed sweets underneath the clear glass "I value the concern but I'll go with my usual. And that includes one of those chocolate cookies"</p><p>"On my way" Alex nods before turning to him "You take care of Mack's order, Fab"</p><p>
  <em>Shit. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That's it.</em>
</p><p>He should have known this would happen. His coworker's tone is as light as usual, obliviously casual, but to Fabio it sounds like a final sentence. He can feel his heart picking up speed while he can do absolutely nothing to stop it.</p><p>"Okay" he clears his throat, placing both hands on the counter and deliberately ignoring the knot forming down his throat while he tries to put himself together and look at him like any normal person would "<em>Alors</em>...same as usual?"</p><p>The last syllable nearly gets lost in Fabio's intake of air when his gaze collides against Maverick's deep brown eyes, already fixed on his face.</p><p>"You know it by heart, don't you?" The spaniard questions calmly, his perfectly shaped right eyebrow arching a bit higher.</p><p>Fabio swears he flushes in record time, cause if he didn't know any better he would have thought that it nearly sounded like teasing. Which is not possible. <em>Like...no</em>.</p><p>Focusing back to the question, he clears his throat once again before answering with a brief nod.</p><p>"I'm better at my job than Jack thinks" he shrugs, dropping his look. In his defense he must say that he does remember other daily orders as well, not just Maverick's because he's hot.</p><p>"Hey, I never, <em>ever</em> said you were bad at your job, might have thought it, but I never said it" Jack complains with a fake scowl and a hand on his heart that Fabio knows better than to take seriously.</p><p>Viñales shakes his head before turning his attention back to the frenchman and that's Fabio's cue to flee towards the machine to get on with it.</p><p>Every other day he had to prepare Maverick's macchiato he has done his best. Today is no different and Fabio would deny it under torture, but he really does follow every step with unusual care. After making sure that the milk is at the ideal temperature, he pours it gently over the dark coffee, getting just the right amount of foam.</p><p>He seals it by putting on the lid and takes a deep breath before coming back to where the two boys wait. Alex is already there with Miller's steamy cup and chocolate cookie. And seriously, Fabio has seen four years-olds react to a sweet with much less enthusiasm than Jack.</p><p>He also registers some recently arrived costumers behind the guys, signaling that the goofing around time is up. As always, relief and disappointment get mixed up in Fabio's chest before he scolds his stupid self for it, cause the fact that he wants them to go as much as he wants them to stay for a bit longer makes no sense at all.</p><p>"Here you go" he manages to say with a quick smile, sliding the cup over the marble surface and feeling pretty accomplished for the steadiness of his voice.</p><p>Maverick straightens, not taking his eyes off Fabio while rummaging inside the pockets of his jacket to fish a dark wallet. And he feels his pulse shoot up under the scrutiny, because <em>this is not how it usually goes</em>. Viñales' expression remains unreadable, but there is a twinkle in his gaze that wasn't there before, nor any previous day, his head slightly tilted to the side as if he was trying to figure something out.</p><p>The conversation between Alex and Jack fades into the background noise and Fabio has to force his hand to take the bills handed over and oblige himself to type on the cash register's screen and return the excess money.</p><p>Only he doesn't get to.</p><p>Gentle pressure closes around his wrist before he has the chance to take the money out and Fabio can only gape at the soft smirk lifting the corners of Maverick's mouth, at the length of his curled eyelashes and the glint of the stud that pierces his left ear under the diffuse lights of the café.</p><p>"Keep the change" Viñales says softly before letting go of his wrist, the fleeting touch vanishing as fast as it appeared, but Fabio swears the skin there keeps tingling. Maverick doesn't need to worry about him refusing the gesture, he couldn't have moved his arm even if he wanted to. His cheeks must match the colour of his hair now, heat climbs up his neck at alarming speed because <em>those eyes</em> keep boring into his, stating that, clearly, he's not done yet "Gracias, Fabio"</p><p>Truth to be told, he nearly melts on the spot. For sure, the words of gratitude have never sounded so pretty before, neither his own name.</p><p>And that thought is absurd enough for the rational part of his brain to encourage a mental self slap.</p><p>He snaps out of the daze just in time to return Jack's fist bump and disregard a knowing look on the aussie's face that he can't quite place. Or that he does not want to place, actually.</p><p>Both boys take their cups and their respective helmets, clearing the way for the queue to advance. Fabio is glad, he could really use a distraction right know while his body cools off.</p><p>"Thank you and come back soon" Alex doesn't skip the goodbye formula he uses with everyone else, the wide grin taking all over his face.</p><p>"That will depend on whether this coffee helps me get through the night, Rinsy" Jack retorts loudly, mirroring Alex's smile as he takes a few backwards steps towards the door.</p><p>Fabio shouldn't, he knows that, but he ends up searching for his gaze one last time, only to find Viñales already looking at him, the prior hint of curiosity shaping the spaniard's expression once again before he follows Jack on his way out.</p><p>"Quite the tip, huh?" Alex startles him out of his stupor, nudging his side with his pointy elbow. It's only then that Fabio realizes it's twice the extra amount he's used to receive, indeed.</p><p>Stupid Viñales with his stupidly pretty face and swindling voice. He should have politely declined instead of staring at the guy like the idiot he is. He squints through the window but the fading roaring of a engine makes clear that he can do nothing but keep it, now, as the unsettling reminder that <em>all of that</em> has indeed happened.</p><p>Eager to let go of the matter, he shakes his head and rolls his eyes at Rins's taunting, Chesire cat-like smile, who is suddenly watching him as if he had caught Fabio red handed. That leads him to two conclusions; first, the little shits that Alex and Jack are were not as oblivious to what was going on beside them as Fabio had initially thought, and second; he has not done a good job at hiding how awestruck Maverick has left him.</p><p>"So that's why Mack comes so often now!" Alex releases a plot twist-worthy gasp that startles even the middle aged man waiting in line, whose disapproving glare doesn't discourage the spaniard at all "I can't believe I hadn't noticed before!"</p><p>"What are you even talking about?" Fabio nearly gets a muscle cramp on his neck from spinning around so violently. It might be because his attention is torn between memorizing the complicated order of the pissed man and his coworker's voice, but Alex's words aren't making any sense to him.</p><p>These past weeks Maverick hasn't stretched conversations past polite greetings and what was necessary to get his coffee just the way he liked, with piercing looks Fabio wasn't able to hold for long -that he might had eluded on purpose, actually- so Maverick showing up because of Fabio alone? <em>Yeah, good one.</em></p><p>Nonsense, if you ask him. Insane theories. Sparkly fantasy at its finest.</p><p>Alex has seen too many teenage dramas.</p><p>"Fab, he didn't bother to drop by daily, before" Rins snorts, taking his notepad out of the pocket of his apron and clicking the bottom of the attached pen to attend the large group of girls that has just claimed the table by the window "Until you started working here, at least"</p><p>Alex winks at him before walking away, leaving Fabio rolling his eyes once more, but with his head swimming in between racing thoughts, each of them more improbable than the previous one.</p><p>
  <em>Whatever.</em>
</p><p>Bold of him to assume it would be an ordinary afternoon.</p><p>For the rest of his shift he can only struggle to focus on coffees, smoothies and herbal teas while ignoring Rins' sniggering and the annoying shiver that runs up his spine every time he thinks about the money tucked on the rear pocket of his jeans.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Get yourself together, <em>beau</em>, I think I can hear a bike approaching!" Tom slaps his arm with more force than necessary for the third time in fifteen minutes and Fabio is <em>this</em> close to losing it.</p><p>Mondays are always hell on earth, for sure, but today it's resembling that description in any possible way. Fabio could have never imagined that the temperatures could go from mildly high to completely unbearable over the course of a weekend like a switch being flicked. But it's a thing in Spain and the Sun scorches the streets as if about to melt them any moment now. People search for the shelter of a roof and air conditioner like moths draw to the light, which would have been a great way to lure in additional costumers if the damn air conditioner hadn't chosen today as the perfect day to stop functioning. Therefore, four o'clock finds Alex inside the storage room, shouting on the phone for anyone to come and repair it while Fabio wipes the floor and keeps an eye on the few brave souls that have decided (not without an iced coffee within reach) to stay on the establishment regardless it all.</p><p>And, unfortunately, amongst them was Tom, twirling the straw of his smoothie in circular motions and making Fabio regret every single decision that led to him telling his best friend about his crush's visit on Friday.</p><p>Needless to say, the weekend had been a frustrating, shitty spiral of trying to concentrate on the pages of his text books and not being able to, disappointing FIFA matches and a failed Saturday night out with Tom and Marcel that came to an end too soon due to his sudden inability to keep himself awake beyond three in the morning (side effects of a non-existent sleeping routine)</p><p>All in all, so much for enjoying his two days off.</p><p>"Seriously, one more and I'm kicking you out" Fabio warns him, while contemplating if locking himself in the freezer for a couple of minutes would get him fired prematurely. Besides, he knows it's another false alarm. At this point he can tell the difference between the sound of Viñales' bike and the rest, as ridiculous as it seems.</p><p>"Hey watch the attitude" his childhood friend comments with a pointed look, stirring the milkshake some more as his expression breaks into a grin "Costumers' rights say I have the power to file a complaint and I'm not afraid to use it"</p><p>"You wouldn't" Fabio narrows his eyes, shaking the fabric of his t-shirt to get some air in between the garment and his overheated torso.</p><p>"Without regrets" Tom shrugs, ducking to the side just in time to avoid the lashing of Fabio's cloth with a loud guffaw "Stop it! You are already on thin ice"</p><p>Speaking of ice, the faint echo of Alex's outraged demands at the other side of the door give away that the air conditioner issue won't be fixed anytime soon and Fabio is about to start repeating to himself like a reassuring mantra that it is not possible to suffer a heat stroke while being inside the café, when the bell above the doorway clangs. He only has the chance to see Tom's eyes widening before turning around to see that none other than Maverick Viñales got in.</p><p>And Fabio feels totally betrayed by the Universe, in that moment, shamelessly stabbed in the back for letting him show up without warning, no motorbike noise, neither anyone screaming for him to get mentally ready. Instead, Maverick walks inside with a dark blue t-shirt over some Adidas joggers, his sneakers impossibly white, looking as insanely graceful and put together as always while everyone else seems to be thawing and crumbling indecorously.</p><p>And let's not get into the vision Fabio himself must be, with the mop in one hand and a rag in the other, his pink hair falling messily over his eyes and a thin layer of sweat covering the tattooed skin on the back of his neck.</p><p>Maverick greets him with a nod and a soft smirk, heading towards the bar where he perches with ease onto one of the stools, taking his phone out the pocket of his sweats and whistling lowly without a care in the world.</p><p>"<em>Cligne, mec</em>" Tom advises him to blink before bursting into a fit of giggles, louder than Fabio would have liked them to be and he -who was definitely <em>not</em> ogling the spaniard, thank you- prays to God for Viñales to have zero knowledge of French.</p><p>He would rather not risk it, either way.</p><p>"Shut up" he groans in a low voice, throwing the cloth onto his shoulder and getting rid of the mop by placing it back inside the bucket. He takes his time washing his hands, given that Maverick is the only costumer on today's fictitious queue and that he doesn't seem to be in a rush, by any means.</p><p>Once he has dried his palms with a clean towel, run his fingers through his hair and admitted how pitiful is to make such a big deal of this, he is set to face the dark haired guy.</p><p>"Hey" Fabio says lamely.</p><p>Maverick makes quick work of locking the phone to look at him, his chill demeanor not faltering in the slightest.</p><p>"Hey" he mimics the greeting, leaning a bit forward, both elbows on the countertop. Fabio allows himself two seconds of breathing in the hint of cologne that reaches his nose and that is already on the verge of being more than he can take "Rough day?"</p><p>Fabio blinks, focusing all his attention on his face, not that it's any less distracting than everything else, but whatever. Such is life.</p><p>"I could get in trouble for complaining to a costumer, you know" he drums his fingers on the polished surface he had thoroughly scrubbed less than an hour ago "But I think it's pretty evident that we have seen better days"</p><p>The answer is as honest as it can get, the current outlook of empty chairs right before their eyes and the audible expletives wrapped in Alex's voice are a reliable proof. </p><p>"You can complain to me all you want, I promise I won't tell" Maverick dares to say with unnerving nonchalance, letting his eyelids drop without breaking the visual contact. And Fabio is not so sure anymore about the spaniard being as unaware of what he's doing as he thought he was.</p><p>The sensation he had on Maverick's preceding visit comes back like a tidal wave. The possibility alone of a bit of his interest being reciprocated sounds as unlikely as usual, yet he wonders again why this abrupt variation on their routine. They have exchanged more words in the last two days than in the previous two weeks and Fabio can't help but ask himself what is it that might have triggered this new attention Viñales observes him with.</p><p>"That's tempting" Fabio concedes, meaning it in more ways than one, fidgeting with the hem of his apron as he changes his bodyweight to the other leg "But I'm not pushing my luck"</p><p>No way. Not this blindly. He's not that reckless. It's <em>Maverick</em> <em>Viñales</em> who they are talking about. Everyone's favorite summer hit. Just because Alex, Tom and Joan claim and swear that a simple tip proves that the guy is into him doesn't make it true.</p><p>"I see" Viñales nods, seemingly more to himself than anything else, his shoulders suddenly thrown a little bit back. The distance between them becomes a tad wider. And Fabio immediately pushes back the questions about what is it that has made the mood change "I'll quit being a bad influence, then, Rins would have my head"</p><p>For a moment, Fabio has to remind himself what the conversation was actually about and discard his delirious interpretation of it.</p><p>And he smiles at the comment, almost wryly, cause since Friday, Alex has been as annoyingly teasing with the crush thing as Tom. He bets he would be <em>delighted</em> to find them talking, happy to have something to pester Fabio with for the rest of the afternoon. That seems to be the case with his flatmate, anyway, sitting two meters away from them, pretending to be engrossed on his drink each time Fabio throws him a sideways glance. Even if he didn't know him as well as he does, the smug half smile betrays him. If his friend is, moreover, hearing it all, he'll have a field day later.</p><p>"So, what can I get for you?" He carries on, deciding against getting into dangerous waters. Doing his job might actually clear his head, for once.</p><p>Normally he would have skipped the question, but he thinks is safe to assume that a drink that implies hot milk is not what Maverick is going for on such a day.</p><p>"An iced tea will be fine" he affirms, proving Fabio right after making a face, as if he had suddenly come to the same conclusion; <em>no macchiato today. </em></p><p>"It'll be ready in a minute" Fabio promises, taking a few steps backwards in the exact moment Alex exits the storage room, phone in hand and a scowl on his face that vanishes as soon as he lies eyes on Maverick. <em>Oh no, no.</em> Fabio knows that Disney villain face that foretells nothing good. He brings his index finger to his lips, the tense gesture directed both at his coworker and at his so-called friend "Not a single word"</p><p>Unsurprisingly, they are having none of that.</p><p>"You really have like zero flirting skills, don't you?" Tom all but proclaims nosily. Has Fabio mentioned that he can't whisper to save his life? At least he does it in French, craning his neck from the other side of the bar and nearly knocking over the half empty smoothie he has been fooling around with for an hour.</p><p>"I didn't catch a word he said but I agree" Alex remarks, pointing at him with the hand that still holds the phone.</p><p>"Weren't you taking care of the air problem?" Fabio snaps back in a grumble, eager to divert the course of the conversation, which -as he anticipated- is pretty useless.</p><p>"And I have. They said they were too busy to make it here today, can you believe that? But after tears, laments, screams and whatnot, technical assistance agreed to come in ten minutes" the spaniard beams pridefully, taking hold of the closest paper napkin he can find to remove the sweat off his forehead "Now is my fairy godmother moment"</p><p>Fabio looks upwards in frustration, as if the ceiling could offer some sort of explanation on why is this his life, almost getting some tea on his shirt when he drops the ice cubes on the liquid with more attitude than necessary. He's not in the mood to play Cinderella now. Remember when he said he was glad Rins was his workmate? He's taking it back right now.</p><p>"You two are unbelievable, I swear to God" he declares between gritted teeth, low enough for only the two of them to hear it.</p><p>"Don't you dare to come back here without a date" Tom mouths with both hands spread at the sides of his face, as if that could really conceal this absurdity.</p><p>If Maverick has, by any chance, understood what any of this is about, Fabio vows to never look at him in the face ever again. The mere idea of it brings a flush to the tips of his ears he's convinced is not due to the lack of fresh air.</p><p>"Fuck off" he swiftly shows them the middle finger before making his way back to where Viñales waits, apparently lost in thought, twirling a set of keys in between his nimble fingers, hopefully unaware of the embarrassing shit show taking place a few feet away from him.</p><p>He peeks at Fabio under those dark lashes as soon as he seems to hear him approaching, an unknowable smile ghosting over his faultless features.</p><p>"How much is it?" Maverick asks, his hand already on the edge of his pocket.</p><p>Again, the memory of the other day feels like a slap across Fabio's cheek. <em>The tip.</em></p><p>He swallows, a determined resolution settling his stance, pushing him to seize the opportunity to bring up the topic he has wanted to address since he saw the Yamaha leave in the distance two days ago.</p><p>"It's on the house" he declares as casually as he can, a facade that falls apart rather quickly when he sees Maverick lift his eyebrows questioningly, clearly caught off guard. Fabio drops his gaze, staring at the veining in the marble counter without really seeing it, trying to find the correct way to phrase what he meant "Look, the tip you left wa-"</p><p>Maverick cuts him before he can get anything meaningful out, releasing something between a laugh and a huff, and of course, not giving up on searching for Fabio's eyes. He propels himself off the stool, the clear plastic cup with tea already secured in the grip of his left hand.</p><p>"You owe me nothing for that. Trust me, I did it willingly" Viñales chuckles softly, as if any other option was simply preposterous. It probably is, but Fabio can't bring himself to accept that.</p><p>"But-" he tries again, only to be interrupted once more, this time not by words but by an action; Maverick throwing onto the counter another bill that is too much. And it might have been hard to read this guy so far, but the look on his face right now is unmistakably challenging, daring him to protest or strike back.</p><p>
  <em>Almost.</em>
</p><p>Fabio gets ahead of himself in his conclusions one more.</p><p>"Isn't that what you are supposed to do when you really like the service, Fabio?"</p><p>His jaw drops.</p><p>It's evident that Viñales doesn't expect an answer to this one, that it's absolutely rethorical, since he turns around without missing another second, the same smirk he had arrived with playing around the corners of his lips when he leaves, waving briefly at Alex before he lets the door fall shut behind him.</p><p>A stream of heat warms up Fabio's body from head to toe as he processes what he has just been told. He nips at his lower lip to stop his own brain from getting the wrong ideas because the "like the service" wasn't meant as in-</p><p>
  <em>No. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>No. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not at all.</em>
</p><p>Alex and Tom's boisterous clamors doesn't spare him, of course, prompting him to react, pick the money and promise to the void that <em>this won't remain like this.</em></p><p>If Maverick thinks he can show up here and buy <em>this shamelessly</em> an attention he already has, he's awfully mistaken.</p><p>Without further thought, he turns on his heels, getting past his <em>"</em>friends<em>"</em> to resume mopping the floor. Clearly, the expected remark is not missing.</p><p>"If you still believe <em>that</em> wasn't hitting on someone you are way more naive than I thought, Fab" Rins chortles, throwing his head back in disbelief.</p><p>Fabio doesn't reply, his head still a bit fuzzy, his previously forged convictions dissolving quickly. And even though he does his best to hide it (cause now he'll have to endure endless teasing and torment from those two) he has a hard time pushing aside the fluttery feeling trapped on his chest.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>An unexpected evening shift is not how Fabio had pictured his last day working in the café.</p><p>Yesterday, Aleix had showed up, practically beaming to announce with great fanfare that, after a successful month of rehab, his elbow was finally fit to get back to work on Friday.</p><p>Fabio was truly happy for him, yet he noted mixed feelings revolting at the news. He couldn't help but feel a tiny pang of sorrow at the prospect of ending his replacement, however he could not deny he kind of looked forward to it, too. He needed his average hours of sleep back to restore his energy levels and survive the exams.</p><p>God, he couldn't wait for next week to conclude and set them free for the summer.</p><p>Unfortunately, it was only Thursday and everyone he knew was still in for one hell of a weekend buried under notes, graphics and highlighted photocopies.</p><p>With a deep sigh he rests his forearms on the bar and surveys the empty coffee shop he knows so well.</p><p>The sun is long gone, and he's not used to seeing the space under artificial lightning, neither to spending time all alone in there, without Alex's company close by or the presence of clients sitting on the tables, no matter how scarce. It's unusually quiet, even though he imagines it's always like this past eleven o'clock. Yet, Fabio must admit it was a good idea of Jarvis to keep the café open overnight in final exams period. There isn't a crowd waiting for a coffee like it happens in the morning but not a single hour goes by without someone getting in and out every now and then.</p><p>Even so, he wonders how someone as social and talkative as Tito can endure this on a daily basis. He hadn't hesitated to say yes when the spaniard had asked him to trade shifts, agreeing perhaps too quickly. According to Rabat, Fabio's willingness had -and he quotes- spared him from hearing begging, attempts of bribe, a rehearsed speech and lots of puppy-eyes looks. But the date Tito had as pretext seemed important enough to do him the favor. </p><p>Thus, here he is, sipping on a cappuccino, with his chin anchored on the heel of his palm and turning pages of notes he's not truly reading. He had known, from the moment the idea crossed his mind, that his plan of making something productive with his time there would be a complete fiasco. But hey, he is tired, it's hot even in these late hours and there is no way he is risking a blackout by putting on the damn air conditioner that has been rather unstable since it had been "fixed". Fabio is convinced it was technical assistance's revenge for the fuss and following war of words Alex waged with the costumer service operator.</p><p>And there was Maverick, also, of course, who Fabio hadn't seen since that day. The spaniard skipped his visit on Tuesday and Wednesday and Fabio's (annoying) sources have confirmed via WhatsApp that he hasn't shown up that afternoon, either. And naturally, he feels confused, robbed, and his mind keeps brooding on it no matter how much he tries to ignore it.</p><p>And anyway. <em>Enough</em>. Dramatic Fabio starts taking over every time he goes there and he isn't about to let that mess with him, after all.</p><p>He is yawning -signaling that it might be a good moment to refill his cup- when he hears it.</p><p>A motorbike engine.</p><p>And not just any engine drowning in the faint noise of nightly traffic outside, no, it's the Yamaha engine whose roar has engraved itself on Fabio's head.</p><p>And he can't believe it, in all honesty. He can't believe he's really seeing Maverick through the wide window, outlined by the street lamps' light, strolling down the sidewalk with his helmet in hand, clad in a basic t-shirt, jeans and his immaculate trainers.</p><p>Fabio doesn't even move when Viñales pushes the door open, making the bell ring, refusing to give in this easily.</p><p>"Isn't it a bit late for you to be here?" the spaniard questions as a greeting, as chill as always, not surprised at all. It does leave Fabio a bit taken aback, however, as if Maverick had already known he would find him here. Something highly unlikely, by the way, given he had never worked on this shift before.</p><p>He manages to compose himself faster than he would have expected, shrugging and choosing to believe they were really meeting by chance. Any other option that implies that Maverick somehow knew he was working tonight gets immediatly discarded, along with the tiny voice at the back of his head that keeps on claiming there is no such things as coincidences.</p><p>He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>"Just so you know, you are not paying for anything tonight" he announces matter-of- factly, firm and clear, cause it has been bugging him. He doesn't know what is Maverick's deal now, if there is something Fabio is missing. If confronting him about it it's the only way to find out, so be it.</p><p>"No?" Maverick stops a few steps away from him, badly feigned astonishment crossing his face. It's unfair how much it resembles a naughty kid that will keep on doing something he has just been scolded for.</p><p>And Fabio simply cannot believe it.</p><p>"No" he asserts, swallowing hard upon seeing the older resuming his way over to the counter. Closer. <em>There.</em></p><p>"And why is that?" Maverick mutters playfully, frowning in something more akin to curiosity than to confusion.</p><p>Fabio narrows his eyes. The little smile the spaniard is trying to conceal tells him everything he needs to know. The question is unnecessary. He knows exactly why. He's messing with him. And the worst thing is that Fabio's heart skips a beat at that, his nerves awakening and not in a bad way.</p><p>"Just because" he rasps, seeing there is no point in elaborating.</p><p>"I'm sure there must be a line on your contract that forbids you from saying that" Maverick seats on a stool, just like he did the other day, placing his dark helmet on the one to his left. He's right in front of him now, studying Fabio's face carefully, slowly. Fabio can almost see the gears turning under that flawless haircut, what he's trying to decipher he has no idea. He doesn't know how long they stay like that, not that he cares. But Viñales only releases a breath the moment he seems to reach a conclusion "You are unbelievable, Fabio"</p><p>Wait.</p><p>
  <em>Fucking stop right there.</em>
</p><p>"L-look who is talking" he snorts after five whole seconds of blatant staring without nothing useful to push off his tongue "You have paid enough these past days to cover whatever it is that you are having now, believe me"</p><p>"Right" Maverick nods, visibly amused, leaning forward as if he was about to murmur a secret "You do know what <em>a tip</em> is, don't you?</p><p>Fabio blinks, wetting his lips in a quick motion. The fact that Viñales' focus on his eyes wavers just a millisecond to follow the movement feels like a little victory, making his entire body perk up.</p><p>Fuck, if Alex ends up being right he's shaving his hair and dyeing it grey, he swears.</p><p>"I do. What I don't get is why you leave them for me" he comments warily, forcing himself to hold the sight of those brown eyes, this time. It's only then that he realizes how much closer they have got.</p><p>The right corner of Maverick's lips raises, his head tilted, his lids lower themselves, some kind of relaxed entertainment palpable in his movements as he leans back, leaving just a hint of the frenchman's new favorite cologne behind.</p><p>Fabio's stomach drops in protest.</p><p>"Interesting read?" The spaniard changes the subject without batting an eyelid, unbothered, pointing at the bunch of notes scattered over the counter and leaving Fabio completely, awfully disoriented.</p><p>"Not much" he gestures weakly, a frown settling on his brows before he can stop it.</p><p>Now he was confused, not quite grasping this attempt of small talk that Maverick seems to be using to dodge Fabio's question.</p><p>"When are you taking your last test?" Viñales continues, easily, his forearms back on the marble, but his body now that bit further, like if suddenly grateful for the barrier between them instead of trying to overcome it.</p><p><em>Ugh</em>. He has spend too much time with the delusional shits that Alex, Joan and Tom are.</p><p>"Next Friday" the answer is uttered in the same flat tone Fabio replied with to the other questions, out of reflex, too preoccupied with understanding where is this even going.</p><p>"Same" Maverick mentions, back to looking at him in the eye after a brief pause, seemingly considering what he's about to say "Any plans, after that?"</p><p>Fabio stays still, yet his heart rate picks up speed, stupidly, as he wonders why this one sounds more earnest, more intent on getting a sincere response.</p><p>He inhales, briefly going over the mental list of things he'll be free to do once he's done with the semester. Paying home a visit, with Tom, is a must, even if it will only be for a month. They are still studying the way to get their parents to agree with letting them stay abroad for the rest of the summer. None of it seems worth commenting right now, though. Not when Fabio can't tell whether Viñales's intentions are what he wants them to be.</p><p>"Not really" he finally goes for, vaguely, the attempt of a grin ending up as a grimace.</p><p>"Mmm" Maverick hums simply, breaking eye contact for the second time since he sat down and Fabio wonders if it's because, again, he hasn't got the kind of answer he wanted "I'll have an espresso, no sugar, please"</p><p>The request all but startles him, even it's the most predictable thing to expect given the context they are in.</p><p>
  <em>Right.</em>
</p><p>He's here to work, after all. And Maverick it's here for a drink. Nothing more, nothing less.</p><p>Good thing he did not allow his hopes to soar, because they are <em>definitely not</em> plummeting.</p><p>"Do you plan on sleeping at all?" Fabio inquires wryly, glancing at the digital clock hanging on the wall behind him, showing that perhaps it's not the most proper timing for a shot of coffee.</p><p>Still, he puts himself in motion, turning around to get the machine ready, in search of something to focus on instead of helplessly checking out his current client.</p><p>"It's for breakfast" the older clarifies, managing the opposite by just boosting Fabio's level of confusion.</p><p>He pauses his tinkering with the buttons.</p><p>"And why don't you come tomorrow morning to get it?" He lifts his eyebrows, even if Viñales can't see him from his position. What it's the point of-</p><p>"Because <em>you</em> won't be here tomorrow"</p><p>He's <em>this</em> close to losing his hold of the cup he had just taken off the shelf, gripping it seconds before it gets smashed against the tiled floor.</p><p>He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but energy buzzes back up his spine like an electric shock at Maverick's remark.</p><p>
  <em>Hold on. Hold on.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hold. On.</em>
</p><p>He can feel the air thickening with something that wasn't there before, that he can't name, but that makes his hair stand on end. He swallows, trying to get his dry tongue to work.</p><p>"I'm not better at espressos than any of the other baristas, you know" he trails off over his shoulder, still with his back to the spaniard, unsure of what to expect if he turns around, if he does as much as move.</p><p>
  <em>It's not wha-</em>
</p><p>"Fuck, you are not making this any easier for me, are you?" Maverick finally complains, light exasperation present in every word.</p><p>Fabio doesn't move, yet all kind of sensations bloom upon hearing that. His pulse skyrockets, heat warms the back of his neck, a traitorous twitch tugging at the corners of his lips.</p><p>
  <em>Unbelievable.</em>
</p><p>"I don't know what you are talking about" he tries one last time, one last try of stubborn denial and skepticism that started cracking and crumbling days ago.</p><p>He eventually gathers courage to turn around after a short silence, diverting his attention back to his favorite costumer, even though he has not fully taken it away from him in the whole time.</p><p>Maverick runs his fingers through his hair, scoffing to himself, the inked words on the inner part of his forearms bared with the motion.</p><p>"Sure you don't. Rins and your friend seem to understand just fine, though" Viñales shrugs, off-handedly, presumably poised, but Fabio is watching him with wide eyes now and he notes that Maverick's hands have not stopped moving, restless, busy with little, impatient movements here and there "You know, I'm glad you are not making me pay tonight"</p><p><em>Ok, there.</em> There is no way he's getting it wrong now.</p><p>"Are you?" Fabio bits the bullet and takes two steps back towards the counter, slowly, bashfully, completely on edge.</p><p>"Mmm. I was starting to wonder how much it was going to cost me asking you out"</p><p>That's the exact moment his brain short-circuits under Maverick's piercing stare, pinning him to the floor as much as it is luring him onward. He gulps, an agreeable kind of warmth definitely <em>not</em> spreading through him.</p><p>"Just so you know, you didn't need to bribe me for that" he gets to whisper, noting how the older's head is slightly angled to the side, waiting for a reaction. Fabio takes another step, ending up right in front of him once again, the start of a grin lighting up his expression. He hasn't voiced his <em>yes</em> out loud, yet something tells him Viñales has glimpsed it without problem, given his badly concealed smirk "And you shouldn't rely on money to flirt, that could end up badly"</p><p>"You think I do this with everyone?" Maverick asks huskily, a mischievous tint to it, falsely innocent. Something flashes across Fabio's chest, a pleasant tug.</p><p>"I hope not" he mutters, grasping the edge of the countertop to support himself, lifting his gaze curiously "Spill, who told you I was working tonight?"</p><p>"Rins and Tito. Aleix was here this afternoon and asked about you. Told me later" Maverick explains with ease, violently clouding Fabio's senses when he reaches for the pink strands of hair falling over his forehead, pushing them aside gently, <em>as if it wasn't a big deal.</em></p><p>Fabio's knees go weak, and he forgets to curse Alex Rins for knowing <em>exactly</em> what he was talking about.</p><p>"It shouldn't be allowed for those three to get mixed" he speaks in a thin voice, absolutely enraptured, much to his dismay.</p><p>"I believe I asked for a coffee" Maverick reminds him, smugly, noticing the effect his gesture had with amusement.</p><p>"You are the one distracting me" Fabio argues, totally flushed, snapping out of it by pushing himself back to the forgotten cup on the machine "Are you in a hurry, anyway?"</p><p>Now is Maverick's turn to sigh, disgruntled due to the newly settled distance between their bodies. Fabio feels pretty accomplished.</p><p>"Not at all. I suppose I could stay for a bit longer" the spaniard fakes a long look at the clock -weighing his options, it seems- before locking their eyes back together "Take all the time you need with that coffee"</p><p>"Good" Fabio concedes and prays so his self-control can keep his actions at bay when Viñales <em>dares to check him out</em>, head to toe "I could use the company"</p><p>At that, an impish, promising twinkle makes Maverick's eyes glow and Fabio thrills under it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Tom is still wide awake when he makes it into the flat later, literally freaking out after seeing through the window -like the gossipy bastard he is- Fabio hopping off the back of Maverick's Yamaha, bombarding him with questions in rapid French before he can say as much as hello. "You ended up learning the lyrics of the summer hit by heart, it seems" he mocks him by using Fabio's own stupid metaphor as he leans against the doorframe of his bedroom, <em>the jerk</em>.</p><p>Not keen on giving him the satisfaction of being right, Fabio limits his reaction to shaking his head at his best friend's squeals, too over the moon to be upset about anything. He promises to explain -without getting into much detail, that's for sure- in the morning. Tom begs and bitches about it as if deprived of the final episode of his favorite series.</p><p>Fabio can't hold back a grin while he pushes his flatmate back to his own his room, for the sake of their neighbours. Had Tom seen the lovebite blossoming under the neckline of Fabio's shirt, and he would have woken up the entire building before fainting. No doubt.</p><p>He couldn't have resisted for long, in the end, some songs are just too catchy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for reading! Don't hesitate to leave a comment if you feel like it, feedback is always really appreciated.</p><p>Happy race week (Bless! Who else still can't believe they are back?) and stay safe❤</p><p>Find me on Tumblr: @itshighlightlover</p></blockquote></div></div>
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